177a Bleecker Street New York Novels & Stories

A rlington Avenue, might be one of the easy going towns in Brooklyn, New York, but deep inside its heart laid one of the dopest buildings in all of Brooklyn, the lighthouse. The lighthouse made more crazy noise than the entire Yankee stadium and had more lightening on its dance floor than ‘club la-vela,’ the largest nightclub in the United States of America.

The woman suddenly turned pale and her eyes widened. “B-but…” “Go to your table, Anna. We will deal with you later,” Brent said and motioned her to go away. After that they went inside the office. Wallace Empire Corp was located in Midtown Manhattan. Nestled between Central Park and towering financial landmarks. The eighty stories floor-to-ceiling glass walls mirrors the NYC skyline that looks stunning during sunset and stormy nights. It spans the entire 80th floor with 360 degree views of Manhattan. The only thing that made him in a good mood whenever he’s having a bad day.

It was large enough for 20 people to sit around comfortably. There were several paintings hanging on the walls, depicting various landscapes from faraway lands. All were painted beautifully and elegantly, giving off an air of elegance. "Such a super rich bastard", I bubbled in my heart as I opened the door silently and Successfully got outside of the building. One would've thought a beast should have his house built in the wild, but no, this one beast is living among humans, even in the best house and the best street in New York, Knickerbocker Ave, Brooklyn.

The building was one of those old New York walk-ups in the East Village—narrow, brick, five stories of mismatched windows staring at each other across a skinny airshaft that smelled like garbage on hot nights and wet concrete after rain. His room was on the fourth floor, rear. Hers was directly opposite, maybe fifteen feet away if you measured straight across the gap. Close enough that he could hear her laugh sometimes when the windows were open. Close enough that the first time he saw her naked he forgot how to blink.

I rubbed both hands over my face and took another drink. My phone buzzed and I immediately pulled it out of my front pocket to find that it a text was from Mario. Maybe I should put a different ringtone for him so I’d know. His text was short as always. An address. 126 Bleecker Street. It wasn’t far from where I lived but Autumn wasn’t home yet and I didn’t want another day to go without us making up and talking this through so I typed my reply before hitting the send button. Not today. I’m sorry but I can’t work today.

Emma stood outside Jake Morrison's apartment building on the Upper East Side, clutching her laptop bag and seriously questioning her life choices. The elegant brownstone with its wrought-iron details and perfectly manicured entrance screamed expensive the kind of place that came with doormen and marble lobbies and editors who could afford to take risks with their authors' careers.

“Um… I wanted to ask you—” “Mr. Thorne!” A man dressed in a uniform-like black suit ran toward us, his face pale. He glanced at me, giving me a brief, nervous smile before shifting his attention to Hunter. “We have a… situation.” Hunter's jaw clenched. “Where?” “Tribeca… Chambers Street,” the man murmured. Hunter muttered a curse, his hands fisting. “Send the squad. We're leaving immediately.”

Well, some of them. I quickly scan the address that Kevin had sent over. Of course, the event is in SoHo, Manhattan - where else would it be? A gig that pays fifty grand for just a few hours of work can only happen in the city's most expensive neighborhood. I still have a little less than an hour before my Uber arrives to whisk me away to the venue. A loud knock at the door stops my train of thought. It can only be Betty- the girl has the habit of forgetting her keys. Without bothering to put on any clothes, I head to the door wearing just my bra and panties.

The address in the ledger is not Helena's current address. But it is connected to a property management company that I trace through two shell entities to a rental agreement that is current and active and which corresponds to a brownstone on a block I know, because I have walked past it twice in the past month and felt something, the static that precedes significance, and did not know what I was feeling it about. I know now. I go on a Thursday evening when the weather is doing the specific thing that March does in New York, the cold that cannot decide whether it is winter or spring and keeps changing its mind every forty minutes.

245 West 163rd Street, Apt 4B New York, NY 10032. For a woman who loves to go after the rich and mighty she lives in the middle-class side of the city, how fun, guess she knows how to cover her tracks better than I thought. Well Sienna, time to pay you a little visit, you don’t get to go silent on me and not expect a reaction.